For some time (years?) we’ve been trying to leash train Panther because she was young and we thought that would work best. She has remained skittish and unhappy on leash no matter how many reassuring pets and treats she gets. While decluttering I stumbled onto a larger harness I’d forgotten we had. Wouldn’t it be funny we said to each other if we took Meeko out to the back yard as well.

Turns out the joke was on us. He loves it. He rolls around and soaks up the sun and he actually hissed at my daughter when she tried to bring him back inside. While that kind of sass wasn’t and won’t be tolerated, I’ve taken him out several more times to sit with me as I write or crochet in the afternoons. Who knew the old man would like it so much. Even big truck driving past the wall that separates our patio from the stores on the other side didn’t bother him. A dart toward a passing squirrel just means he won’t ever be trusted off leash. We adopted him from the pound at 8 months old and he’s turning 10 this year. He has been indoors all that time. There might be a reason that saying wasn’t about teaching things to old cats.

Isn’t he handsome?

I’m not sure why, but I’ve been thinking about my Bob lately. He passed away 2 years, 8 months ago. It doesn’t feel like he’s been gone that long. It’s tempting at this point to write about how great Bob was. He was a great cat. But what prompted this post today is more my thinking about why and how I think about him.

Most of the time I don’t know what bring him to mind. Other times, something happened that reminds me of something he did, or a time we had together and it’s more clear. While the memories also remind me how much I miss him, time has done its work to some degree in that I am mostly happy to think about and remember him.

Then sometimes, my mind will continue on, remembering other cats I’ve shared my life with:

Shindy – the first cat I got after moving out on my own

Magic – the only cat I’ve had that I knew his actual birthday because he was born under my best friend’s bed when they took in a pregnant stray

Sheba – the trouble-making tiny Bengal with the huge voice

and my childhood cats Patches – the barn cat who knew she was really a princess and Charley – the silly calico who acted like a puppy.

I know what these cats have meant to me. Working as an RVT for over twenty years now, I’ve seen the bonds people share with their pets. They add so much to our lives. I actually get sad for the ‘it’s just a dog/cat/pet’ people. They’re missing out on so much by limiting who their hearts can hold dear. I’ve been present while so many people said goodbye to their fluffy family members. Or while they stood by their side to fight through an uncertain recovery. These are not frivolous emotions or values. They are important.

And our memories are precious.